


On We March

by My_Young_Friend



Category: NCIS
Genre: First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-31
Updated: 2010-10-31
Packaged: 2017-10-12 23:52:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/130533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/My_Young_Friend/pseuds/My_Young_Friend
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How it all began for DiNozzo and McGee.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On We March

"Oh I doubt that," and the tone of bravado in Tony's voice almost covered the hint of nerves. Shit, Tony probably had slept with her.

McGee wasn't exactly surprised. This was Tony; it was only a matter of time before someone's ex came around with a vengeance. And it was McGee's luck that this hells-angel wannabe with halitosis and a grudge had run straight into the middle of their sting. There was still a chance they could salvage things if-

"Yeah? What, you think I'm some kind of idiot?"

"Not at all," Tony charmed, and McGee was a little impressed because he had to be getting the full force of the dog breath that was threatening to melt the varnish off the bar. "But let me give you a hint of why I think you're wrong."

That was the point at which the entire world stopped, turned on its head and logic fled in fear. Because that was also the point that Tony leant over and kissed McGee.

It wasn't exactly a fantastic kiss - the angle and position were against them, but Tony was intent on selling it. McGee was debating whether he should open his mouth or not when Tony finally pulled away.

"You think I'm some dumbass hick who ain't heard of bisexuals?"

 _Crap._

Tony ducked the punch and pushed the aggravated accuser across the bar. The barman in return pulled out a baseball bat and that seemed like just the perfect time to start running. McGee stumbled a little as things were thrown around them and something hit the back of his leg. Tony grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the fire exit.

They barged through it, alarm sounding as they did, and just kept running until the noises die down. At McGee's guess, they were about half a mile away when they both stop to lean on an alleyway wall. 

"Can I just say in my defence," Tony wheezes, "she didn't tell me about Bubba-Jo back there until afterwards."

McGee slumped to the ground, arms resting on his knees, and stared sideways at Tony. There was no way he was explaining this one to Gibbs.

******************************************

McGee shoved the keyboard away in disgust. He'd been setting up that quest chain for days and now he'd screwed it up. There was no way, _no way_ that that Entropic Beast should have beaten his level 70 Death Knight. Not if he'd been focused, which he clearly wasn't.

 Okay, he reassured himself, this was to be expected.

 It was Tony, they'd kissed, it was purely to try and save the op. And this confusion was just because it'd been a while. Hell, he'd feel weird if anyone had kissed him.

 That was it. So the thought of it could stop plaguing him now and let him get back to resurrecting his avatar.

 Anytime now.

 No, really.

 ...

  _Oh god_ , his head thunked against the desk. _Please don't let this make things awkward tomorrow._

 *******************************************

 And awkward they were. He'd tried to beat Tony in so that he could hide behind his desk. So of course Tony would choose today to be in bright and early.

 "Morning, Probie."

 "Morning," McGee replied, eyes on his chair and the protection of his dual monitors.

 "I understand that you had an eventful night?" Ziva asked and McGee flinched.

 "Last night?" he asked, trying to sound innocent and failing miserably.

 "At the bar?"

 "Oh, yeah," Tony couldn't have told her. _Go with the Gibbs-safe version_. "It was a dud, Cole didn't show."

 "That's because he was in the morgue." Gibbs strode in with his coffee and explanation in a way that was perfectly normal. So there was really no need for McGee to jump.

 "Guilty conscience, McGee?" Gibbs eyed him, suspiciously.

 "No, Boss, just a little too much coffee today."

 "You haven't had a coffee yet," Tony noted.

 "I meant at home," McGee replied, still keeping his eyes focused on his screen and far away from anyone and anything to his left.

 Unfortunately, this meant he could see the look Ziva was giving him over the top of his monitor. It was an amused look, as though she hadn't quite worked something out but had a good idea what was going on.

 When she glanced to look over at Tony, McGee stopped looking and opened up a particularly awkward piece of code that he'd been working on.

 He vaguely heard Gibbs order Tony and Ziva to Cole's address and gave the obligatory 'on it' when told to check their ex-suspect's background. He started to pull up database queries and prayed to every god he could think of that Abby wouldn't come up for a visit. 

*******************************************

 "Ziva thinks we're screwing by the way."

 McGee had thought that years of people trying to shock him had worn off his spit-take reaction. He was wrong.

 "Need something to clean that up?" Tony was standing in front of his table in the break-room, offering up the napkin-dispenser.

 McGee glared at the floor and snatched a few from it.

 "Actually, Ziva thinks we _have_ screwed," Tony went on, "and that you're all embarrassed about it. I did explain to her about Mr Walking-Cliché but with you acting like a scandalised altar boy, _shockingly_ , she doesn't believe me."

 McGee could have done without the simile and continued to find the table-top fascinating. "Yeah, okay, I'll talk to her."

 "Not my point, Probie, and to quote quite a few women I've known, my eyes are up here. That actually is pretty annoying."

 For the first time that day, McGee looked Tony in the eye.

 "Isn't that better?" Tony asked, clapping him on the back. McGee shot him a sarcastic smile.

  _Not in the slightest._ "Yeah, sure."

 "You a little freaked out?" McGee scanned Tony’s face for any sign of ridicule, but found none.

 "Uh" McGee honestly had no idea how to answer that, because freaked out wasn't quite the right phrase for it.

 "First guy to kiss you?" Tony asked and McGee couldn't help but scan the room. Not that it would matter; he'd be amazed if it wasn't half-way around the office by now.

 "First guy to kiss me in a way unrelated to an amazing discovery or life-saving event." Because there had been his lab partner in Physics 223, and that jock whose thesis he'd saved from deletion.

 Tony thought about that for a while.

 "It _was_ technically a life-saving event."

 "No because it didn't work and we had to run out of there, blowing" _God, why did I say blowing_ "the op."

 "Well it should have worked and so it should have been a life-saving event. See, no problem."

 McGee smirked because that was pure Tony logic.

 Tony grinned. "Better?"

 "Yeah." And this time it was the truth.

 "Going to stop averting your eyes like a blushing virgin?"

 "Tony I wasn't-" he began and watched as Tony walked off shaking his ass at McGee. McGee retaliated by throwing the scrunched up tissue-paper at his head.

 ***********************************************

 Two weeks later and the Tony-Kissed-McGee story had been around the office and died down. No-one was talking about it and the amused looks had stopped.

 So there was really no reason for McGee to keep thinking about it at inappropriate moments.

 Not that there were appropriate moments to think about your partner's lips on yours.

 The way his tongue just glanced across the join of your lips.

 Not forgetting his hand on your jaw, holding it tightly with his pinky gently stroking your neck.

 And god damn it, could the dreams just stop already?

 ***********************************************

 Of course, it didn't help that they now had a lead that had led them back to the same block as the bar. They'd set up a stakeout in an apartment across the street from a storage locker four doors down and were now just waiting. Officially they were waiting to see if Cole's partner came back for the pallet of tech he'd stolen.

 Unofficially, McGee was waiting to see if this stakeout would be as bad as their last one.

 Tony set up the long-range lens and focused it on something that McGee could tell was not even close to the direction of the warehouse.

 "Ah, now this brings back memories," Tony reminisced.

 McGee glanced over his shoulder, and was unsurprised to see it pointing at the dive-bar.

 "Yeah," McGee groused, rubbing his thigh absently, "painful ones from that bar stool clipping the back of my leg."

 "Oh please, like you can remember anything after I kissed you."

 "Oh sure, yeah, I'd forgotten that your lips have analgesic properties. God knows what your cock can do."

 "Wanna find out?" Tony waggled his eyebrows in a way that Groucho Marx would have found gauche.

 McGee shook his head, grinning. "Tony, one day you’re going to get in a lot of trouble with cracks like that."

 "I live in hope, Probie."

 McGee snorted and turned to see Tony looking less amused than he'd imagined.

  _What?_ "Are you serious?"

 There was a moment, and McGee wondered if Tony was trying to decide what to say.

 "Let's just say he wasn't that far off with the bisexual comment."

  _Okay this is a joke. This has to be a joke._

 "Since when?" McGee had been aiming for unconvinced but he could hear a strange undertone to his voice, one that he didn’t want to think about too much.

 "His name was Brad," said Tony, nostalgically "and our car broke down outside a castle owned by a transvestite alien."

 There was the joke, and McGee shoved Tony's shoulder, causing his chair to roll away slightly, smiling and trying to work out why he felt almost disappointed.

 "Okay, fine, but his name really was Brad. Frat brother. Very _discrete_ frat brother."

 "You're kidding me?" And okay, McGee probably should have tried to sound less incredulous, but this was _Tony_. Casanova of the Navy Yard Tony, Don Juan DiNozzo.

 "Nope." Tony shifted in his seat and McGee wondered if this was making him uncomfortable. He started to feel a little bad about pressing it.

 "Wow, Tony, I had no idea."

 "Not something I tend to advertise, McGee." Tony focused on setting up the cameras. "Doesn't exactly help with the ladies. Well," he considered, "most ladies."

 "Hold on, why would you be worried about-"

 "Okay, we're not talking about it until you've either read Kinsey, or watched the movie."

 ***********************************************

 Three hours into their next shift and McGee figured now was as good a time as any to bring it up again.

 "So, are you a one, then?"

 "Oh, hi there McSubtle. Nice segue into that one," Tony snapped back.

 Okay, maybe now wasn't the right time. But how exactly were you supposed to bring these things up. 'Oh hey, Tony, fancy a half-and-half pizza for lunch? Oh and by the way, I did read up on Kinsey and was wondering where you place on the scale.' God he wished Abby was here.

 No scratch that. He did not want Abby anywhere near this conversation.

 "Maybe more of a zero point seven-five." Tony's response interrupted his terrifying image of Abby walking in on them.

 "You?" Tony asked, apparently unfazed but McGee had worked with him too long not to notice the hint of interest in his voice.

 "Well I would have said a zero."

 "Would?" Tony was still looking at the screen but smirking now.

 Okay, so time to face things head on. McGee tried to keep his voice as casual as possible and was surprised at how calm it sounded.

 "I'm considering my options."

 Tony span round on his chair "Haha! Score another victim of the DiNozzo charm - no-one can resist it!"

 "Yet you never use it in interrogation." McGee mocked.

 "It's against policy to prick-tease suspects."

 "But fellow agents are fair game?" McGee asked, under his breath.

 The broad grin Tony was wearing suggested that he'd heard that loud and clear.

 McGee could barely believe that, for the first time in his career, he was glad to be on a stakeout.

 ********************************************

 The rest of the shift had passed with no more conversation on that topic. In fact, it was just an hour before the end of the next shift that Tony brought it up again.

 "Out of curiosity, what are you waiting for?"

  _Well_ , McGee thought, _it had to happen sometime_. "For a start, we work together and I have no intention of breaking rule 12."

 Tony waved off his protest. "Rule 12 is only broken if Gibbs finds out. You'd think that two highly trained agents could work a way around that, wouldn't you?"

 Crap, he'd hoped that that would hold Tony off a little longer. Tony normally showed a little more reverence to Gibbs' golden rules than that.

 "Next reason?"

 Here was the tough one. McGee took a deep breath and bit the bullet. "Look, Tony, you might be pretty comfortable with this whole thing, but some of us haven't had the past twenty-"

 "Fifteen," Tony interjected and McGee shot him an unconvinced look.

 "-however many years to deal with it."

 "Aww, is little Probie having a 'sexual identity crisis'?" It was bad enough that Tony was patronising him, without the air quotation marks as well.

 "Shut up Tony," he said, because this was going exactly as badly as he'd suspected it would. Frankly, he'd thought it through a few times and every time it ended up with him pissed off.

 "Want me to kiss you again?" Because this is just some big joke to him. Like a brand new chapter of haze the Probie. _Well screw that, I’m not in the mood._

 "Could you just leave me alone?"

 "Sure, McGee," Tony stood up so fast that his chair banged into the desk and recoiled back towards him. "I'll just leave this cramped and stuffy room which I've been just _loving_ so far this week, and go for a walk around the block. Be sure to explain to Gibbs that you banished me so you could angst when he calls in, will you?"

 "Screw you, Tony." And okay, yeah, he could have phrased that better, as Tony went on to prove.

 "Well if you think it would help."

 And that was enough. McGee shoved himself up from the desk, scattering the paper and shaking the screens.

 "This isn't fucking funny, Tony!"

 "I know that, McGee," said Tony, standing toe to toe with him "I kinda worked that out before your big freakout."

 "Freakout?!" McGee yelled in disbelief "This is not a fucking freakout, this is me having enough of you and your damn remarks!"

 "Well then do something about it!" A few days later when McGee thought about it again, he felt like the biggest patsy for not seeing how Tony had engineered the situation.

 "Fine!"

 And then, for the second time that month, the world stood on its head and said a hearty fuck you to logic. Only this time, McGee knew what the hell he was doing.

 *************************************************

 Then life carried on. Not that McGee ever expected it to do otherwise. It just took a little getting used to. There was certainly an extra edge to movie night.

 But something was still bothering him. Okay, something more than the "What the hell am I doing kissing Tony" feelings that kept rearing up every so often.

 It was like a puzzle where McGee didn't even know if all the pieces existed, or if he'd made them up. God this would be so much easier if it was someone other than Tony with his fingers in his hair.

 "I'll be honest with you, McGee, if you're finding The Thing complicated, we might want to skip Memento."

 "Huh?" _Great riposte there, Tim._

 "You looked like you were trying to divide by zero."

 "I'm just tired; it's been a long case."

 "Uh-huh." Tony sounded unconvinced.

 "It has!" McGee protested.

 "The lady doth protest, yada yada."

 McGee glared at him. But there was an elephant in the room now, and McGee had brought it in, so McGee had to get rid of it.

 "What's going on with this?" he asked, fully expecting sarcasm and not being disappointed.

 "Oh, are we about to have a deep and meaningful? I think I may need more popcorn. Maybe a box of kleenex."

 McGee sank back into the sofa and stared at the screen. He really should have known better than to ask Tony a question like that.

 "Wow McWhiplash, clingy to sulky in point five seconds!"

 McGee pulled his head away from Tony's hand. "Just shut up and watch the movie."

 Tony sighed. "Okay, Probie, here's how it's going to go. We'll do the serious thing and then go back to the fun thing, deal?"

 McGee said nothing. He'd made his first move, now it was up to Tony.

 "First off, if I wanted a fling, and I'm guessing that's what your oh-so-subtle question was aiming at, I probably know more places to find one than you know cyber cafes."

 One piece down and that was by far the most reassuring one to have.

 All the same, McGee went to protest the geek-cliché but found Tony's hand over his mouth.

 "No interrupting. I want this over and done with so that there's plenty of time for you to make it up to me for having this ridiculous conversation. Bark once if you understand."

 McGee rolled his eyes, but gestured for Tony to continue.

 "Secondly, I have no intention of pissing off Abby, a woman who makes voodoo dolls for fun and profit, by messing around with anyone on the team." Tony considered this for a moment and corrected himself. "By messing around with anyone on the team more than usual."

 McGee nodded. It was a fair point. Abby was a force of nature akin to a mother bear when provoked.

 "And finally, the million dollar question. Did you ever wonder why my first option when confronted with a pissed off husband was to kiss you?"

 The final piece of the puzzle clicked into place as Tony finally removed his hand from McGee's face. Now that McGee thought about it, Tony hadn't even tried to claim mistaken identity, which you'd think would be his first response. That was, well that was unexpected, and led to another question.

 "How long?"

 "This isn't Hallmark, McGee. I'm done spilling my guts."

 "I'm not asking for a monologue, just give me a time-frame"

 "More than a month, less than a year."

 "Wow"

 "Yeah, I get it, you're touched. Can we pretend that we're both guys and not talk about this anymore?"

 "Uh yeah, sure." McGee could have kissed him, and quickly realized that, actually, he could kiss him.

 McGee instigating it seemed to take Tony by surprise, although he rallied magnificently, hands beneath McGee's shirt in seconds.

 "So," Tony began as McGee moved to kiss his jaw, the rasp of stubble a strange but not unwelcome feeling. "Are you done with both your bisexual freakout and your woe-is-me insecurity freakout?"

 "Fuck you, Tony," he murmured somewhere between Tony's jaw and collar bone.

 "Not just yet, Probie. Got to break you in slowly."

 And that was something McGee hadn't really thought about. Okay so that would be something they'd probably have to do. _Shit, how does that work, exactly?_ He understood the mechanics and all-

 "Ah, I see the bisexual freakout has returned."

 "Huh?" McGee noticed that he'd stopped what he was doing while his mind raced.

 One of Tony's hands came out from beneath his t-shirt and firmly cupped McGee's jaw, holding it in place as Tony fixed him with a look. "McGee, Probie, everyone’s favourite Elflord."

 "Yes?"

 "Stop thinking."

 **************************************************

 It had started off pretty damn slow. Tony had been remarkably restrained, waiting until their third movie night before his hands went further than the waistband. In Tony terms, that was practically a lifetime. And so long as McGee didn't think about it, it was good. Very good. Good enough to stop him getting weirded out by who was doing what to whom.

 "You know, you've got hands, too." Tony mentioned, almost in passing and it struck McGee that this was the point where he had to find out if he was still a quick learner. He mimicked Tony's earlier motions, unzipping the fly of the jeans and reaching inside, just about managing not to flinch when Tony's cock twitched against the palm of his hand. It wasn't so different when he curled his hand around it.

 As it turned out, Tony wasn't a bad teacher. Vocal, encouraging and downright filthy, but not bad. And it wasn't like he didn't know where to start. He just...adjusted. A little tighter, a little slower, and bingo - he rubbed his thumb up the line of Tony's shaft and could feel Tony thrust up into his grip.

 He did it again, because it wasn't reliable data until it was replicable. This time Tony pushed McGee flat on to the couch, kneeling over him, giving just enough space for McGee to keep teasing that spot. From the ragged noises Tony was making, it was definitely something worth remembering. Although he did wish that one of them had thought about hand cream because pretty soon this was going to start hurting.

 "Stop," Tony ground out and McGee immediately withdrew his hand. _Shit, what did I do. That was going well, wasn't it?_ That was right, he was sure of it. Then he felt Tony shuffling above him. He'd already shucked his pants and briefs down past his thighs and McGee felt a sudden jolt of panic.

 "Tony, I can't...not...I mean-"

 "Not tonight, Josephine. Your ass can unclench any time." He bit down on the lobe of McGee's ear while his hands guided McGee's hips upwards so that he could strip the denim and cotton from McGee's lower-half.

 "You trust me, Tim?"

 It was the name that did it. McGee swallowed down and nodded.

 "Then close your eyes."

 For all that he really didn't want to, he shut his eyes and waited. He felt more shuffling and heard a soft noise but that was sent to the back of his mind when Tony leaned forward and pushed down, rubbing his cock against McGee's. It was such a bizarre sensation, slick from something that McGee would later find to be a bottle of hand cream that Tony had stashed under the couch for just such an occasion.

 ("You planned that?"

 "Not specifically, but I didn't want to miss an opportunity")

 Just as McGee was getting used to the motion, Tony wrapped a hand around both their cocks, coating McGee's in the residue of cream on his hand. McGee couldn't help but push upwards because _god_ that was a lot better than he'd expected. Not that he'd ever thought about this because, well, he just hadn't. But if he had, he wouldn't have thought about it being this good.

 He opened his eyes and could see strain on Tony's face. Looking to the side, he saw that Tony was holding all his weight on the one forearm to the side of McGee's face.

 "Let me," McGee panted out. He wrapped a hand just below Tony's and started to move. Whether the moan from Tony was relief as he balanced his weight on both arms, or pleasure from anything McGee was doing was debatable, but the broken sentences that came after were nothing but encouragement.

  _Faster_. _Harder_. _More_. McGee obeyed each one until he felt Tony's cock throb as he came. A few pumps more and McGee joined him, the tacky mixture of their semen coating his hand and both their t-shirts. He wondered what to do about that when Tony slumped down on top of him.

 McGee took the initiative and wiped his hand on the back of Tony's shirt.

 "Did you have to do that?" Tony mumbled.

 "Can't exactly get up for a tissue right now," McGee said, smirking. Tony huffed in reply.

 McGee let his free arm hang loosely over the edge of the sofa, fingers brushing against the rug, his skin still strangely sensitive.

 He considered his first gay sexual experience. After quick deliberation, he decided that it bore the need for further research. Not tonight, though. He could feel the edge of the freakout in the back of his mind and didn't want to risk its reappearance.

 "I swear I can hear you thinking," Tony grumbled, peeling himself away from McGee.

 "Where are you going?" McGee said, a sudden wave of insecurity washing over him again.

 "Well I don't know about you Probielicious, but I thought I'd get this shirt off before it's glued to me."

 It was a reasonable point, but the tone completely warranted the thrown cushion that hit Tony in the shoulder.

 ***************************************************

 It was now two solid months after the last 'freakout', and he'd finally worked it out.

 "I guess it'd have to be a one."

 "Writing binary in your head again?" mumbled Tony, head half buried in the pillow.

 "No just answering a question some hazel-eyed moron asked me a while back."

 There was a pause. "So does this mean I can stop wondering if you're going to run screaming into the night when I fuck you?"

 "Aww, Tony," McGee rolled over to kiss him on the cheek, "anyone would think you cared."

 "Nah, just don't feel like explaining that one to the police. Or the neighbors."

 McGee swung his legs out of bed and reached for his shorts. "I think your neighbors are well used to screaming."

 "They should be since you started coming round," Tony snarked.

 "I do _not_ scream."

 "No but you beg, moan and yell beautifully." Tony had rolled onto his back and was smirking up at McGee.

 "Begging?" McGee raised a brow in disbelief "You’re going to talk about begging after two nights ago?"

 Tony' face fell. "You promised not to mention that."

 Gotcha. "I believe I promised not to mention that in public or at work."

 "Devious, Probie-wan." Tony looked proud underneath the half-awake expression and McGee couldn't help but beam a little at that. "Learned well from Yoda, have you."

 McGee considered pointing out that it was Qui-Gon Jinn, but Tony probably wasn't awake enough to appreciate it.

 "Coffee?"

 Tony rolled back onto his front melodramatically. "Just one more hour, mom."

 "Sure," McGee called back as he made his way to the coffee-maker on the counter. "I look forward to you explaining to Gibbs why you're late."

 "Worst boyfriend ever!" Tony called out.

 McGee was glad that he was in the kitchen. He'd half expected a reaction when Tony inevitably called him something like 'boyfriend', but smiling and feeling smug wasn't the one he'd have predicted.

 He got the coffee going and stood waiting for the boiling water to percolate. A tiny bit of peace in the morning. It wouldn't last.

  "Awful quiet in there, McJeeves." The sound of feet on the carpeted floor suggested Tony had managed to drag himself out of bed. That or they were being broken into by the ballsiest burglar known to man.

 "The French Roast's not a great conversationalist."

 Tony leaned against the counter and immediately began playing with the haphazard mess that was McGee's hair. "You two should get along well."

 "Shut up and in five more minutes there'll be the sacred nectar on which you senior agents thrive."

"All the coffee in Columbia won't make me a morning person," Tony yawned.

"How about all the coffee in the coffee maker?"

"Two cups? Maybe." Tony swung himself around, arms now either side of McGee, effectively trapping him. "Might need a little enticement."

McGee leant forward and whispered in his ear. Nothing too graphic or they'd both end up late; just a few vague promises about after work.

"Really?" Tony raised an eyebrow in his best Sean Connery impression.

McGee turned to watch the coffee drip into the pot, methodically, calculating the when there'd be enough for the first cup and deliberately not answering the question. There was nothing he could do about his smirk, though. There was finally just enough, and he ducked under Tony's arm to tend to it. He switched out the jug for a mug to catch the remaining drips, pouring the contents into what had been clearly denoted when he first stayed over as Tony's mug.

Tony inhaled deeply as McGee passed it over, handle first. Blowing across the surface of the liquid, Tony stared up from it seductively. McGee shook his head and took that as his cue to go shower. He headed to the bathroom, snatching a towel from the bedroom on the way just as Tony took a quick gulp. He had no idea how Tony could cope with drinking coffee that hot. He was pondering whether it was a throwback from the Baltimore PD days when he just faintly heard Tony mumbling in the kitchen.

"Best boyfriend ever."


End file.
